


Purgatorio

by LouRea (MementoVitae)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 15:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MementoVitae/pseuds/LouRea
Summary: Of all the sons of Sparda, V's lust for battle is weakest. He could probably live out a reasonably normal life not fighting demons at all if not for the psychological effects.





	Purgatorio

It starts with nervous tics.

Lip biting, finger drumming. He notices his grip is a little too tight on his cane every now and again. He notices he never leaves it out of arms reach, even in his own home. Especially in his own home.

Restlessness follows.

Mild daytime agitation. He finds it difficult to decompress properly. His quiet routines suddenly lack something. Sometimes his chest feels tight. Sometimes he feels a little breathless. He grows suspicious. He thinks that he must be breaking down. Fears that his uncertain existence is teetering again. He checks his body meticulously for cracks. There are none.

Sleeping becomes difficult.

His tics amplify. His cane is never out of hand. He starts to think of ways demons could surprise him. Ways they _did_ surprise him, a long time ago. He thinks often of old childhood scars that don’t exist on this body. The physical reminder exists with Vergil. But every hard-learned lesson they taught lingers with him.

He wears down.

Baggy eyes and bitten nails. Sallow complexion. He tries to be mindful. Tries to force himself not to pace, not to gnaw, not to lie awake in wait for things to emerge from shadows that were familiar only a week or two ago. Nothing has come for him in so long. The peace can’t last. It never has.

The night terror is inevitable.

It comes when the exhaustion overcomes the paranoia, and he finally closes his eyes. He wakes not screaming, but roaring. Fangs bared like an animal and cane in hand. It takes Shadow to pin him before he can harm himself, and Griffon to talk him through it. It doesn't take long. He's still only V, and his stamina is limited.

There is a space a few minutes between when the cane peels away from his cut hands and clatters to the floor and the sickly sweat on his body dries. In that space, he holds onto them both for dear life and shivers as adrenaline seeps out of him like poison. They always think he's going to cry. Sometimes, he thinks he will finally be granted that one final mercy of being human. But he never does.

He gets up and goes demon hunting instead.


End file.
